


Pumpkin Spice

by mambo



Series: four years of college and plenty of knowledge [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Frat Boy!Bucky, M/M, Punk!Steve, Pure Unadulterated Fluff, Skinny!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:59:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2518400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mambo/pseuds/mambo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our boys drink pumpkin spice lattes and watch the leaves fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pumpkin Spice

**Author's Note:**

> Pogryzc prompted me on Tumblr for a fall-themed story, and since Bucky loves pumpkin spice, this came about.

Bucky is laying on a bench next to the lake. He probably shouldn’t be laying on this bench. Lots of people have had sex on it; hell, he _knows_ that Dum Dum’s had sex on it. Complained about the splinters for a week, which is a mental image Bucky never expected or wanted to have. But it’s just chilly enough to be pleasant and the orange leaves are falling onto the calm, dark water of the lake and it’s a beautiful place to relax and wait for Steve to be done with class.

But Steve is late.

Bucky hasn’t been paying too close attention, but the bells on the campus church have chimed the hour _and_ the fifteen minute mark. Steve knows where Bucky’ll be—unless his phone hasn’t been working, which Bucky doubts—so he’s beginning to get worried. Steve’s gotten himself into trouble before, standing up for the less fortunate or saving a stray cat or about nine hundred annoying but endearing situations, most of which end up with Bucky dragging Steve away kicking and fussing. And maybe punching an asshole because no one messes with Steve. No one. Even if Steve kind of asks for this trouble with his chivalrous attitude. He and Steve have had more than one conversation that has ended with Steve threatening to run for office and _change the world_. And while Bucky is in awe of his super sweet, sexy boyfriend’s dedication to the cause of getting his ass kicked for the betterment of humanity, Bucky’d prefer if he didn’t want to do it on a national scale.

Then again, being First Husband wouldn’t be too bad. The food’d probably be good, at least.

But that doesn’t change the fact that Steve is _late_ and he hasn’t texted Bucky and he could be laying in a ditch somewhere and—

There’s something warm against Bucky’s face. Bucky flinches, nearly knocking over the paper coffee cup that Steve gets out of the way only just in time.

“Jesus,” Steve says, backing away, which is totally the opposite of what Bucky wants him to be doing right now. Or ever. Steve’s bony ass could probably adhere to him and he wouldn’t really mind. Well, thinking about it, it’d probably be pretty hard for them to walk if they became conjoined twins, but they’d figure it out. He and Steve always seem to figure it out, no matter what the problem is.

“Sorry,” Bucky says. “Was just thinking about how you were probably lying in a ditch somewhere, dead.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yet, here I stand.”

Bucky rakes his eyes up and down Steve—in his ratty army surplus that he won’t give up, ripped jeans and t-shirt from some obscure band that Bucky hasn’t heard of—and vows to himself that by the end of the night, Steve won’t be wearing any of it. “Yeah, there you are.” Then he notices the two cups, one in either one of Steve’s hands. “What you got there?”

“Pumpkin spice,” Steve says, holding a cup out to Bucky. Bucky sits up and takes it from Steve’s hand, letting his fingers brush against Steve’s as he does. Touching Steve, being _allowed_ is one of those little joys that Bucky can’t get over, even now. The cup is warm against his fingers and he takes it gratefully, tickled that Steve remembers such a little fact from so long ago. He takes a sip; it’s still hot. “That’s why I was late,” Steve explains sitting on the bench next to Bucky.

Bucky moves closer, so that their sides are touching.  “How was class?” he asks, watching a leaf fall from a nearby tree and drop on the surface of the lake, watching the water ripple gently.

Steve shrugs. “Same as usual,” he says.

Bucky takes a deep breath of the chilly autumn breeze. “Glad you’re not dead in a ditch.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Such a romantic.”

Bucky leans in closer, letting his nose rest in Steve’s soft hair. “Only for you,” he responds, quiet, glancing quickly at Steve’s hearing aid before leaning down and gently pressing his lips to it. “Only ever for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> If it would please you, it sure would please me if you were to follow me at whtaft.tumblr.com!


End file.
